Thirteen's Destruction
by Salkri Kachemench
Summary: A story about how Thirteen and he others find themselves in a dangerous hostage situation. AU, takes place around Series 5 but with elements from Series 7. My first Fanfic - so I'll appreciate all feedback. Starts off Fourteen but becomes Chirteen. Rated M for violence - probably could've been T but I'm paranoid. Also, I don't own House MD, just this story. Sigh :)
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1: A Tequila Infused Remedy**

**Present**

She was late to work. Again. House was going to kill her when she got in. Sighing heavily as she contemplated which rude remarks she could expect in the DDX room that morning, she brushed a lock of her brunette hair behind her ear. Last night hadn't helped her already pounding headache, and the combination of the Huntingdon's drug trial and her hangover was anything but pleasant. Still a few too many shots to relax at the end of the day was worth the regret later. After all, that was the thing she loved about alcohol: not the bitter taste or the flood of temporary warmth, but the blessed amnesia it caused. She could forget House, forget the patient and forget her damn degenerative disease. If only for a few hours.

Her mind side tracked by flashbacks of last night, it caused a loud horn beep and a flash of a red light to bring her back to her senses. Jamming her foot on the break she stopped just in time. Ignoring the filthy looks from onlookers and the slight tremble in her left hand, she breathed a small gasp of relief. Suddenly the world spun away from her, colours blurring to the right of her vision and as she watched deliriously they turned into puddles of grey. The car shook with the impact of the other vehicle and her head collided with the windscreen, shards of glass shattering over her and opening wide cuts as deftly as the stroke of an artist's paint brush. Her arms and legs were raised in the air in slow motion, as she was flung like a ragdoll into the car door. Sounds were muted except for her own gasping breathing as liquid filled her mouth. Dimly she felt her eyelids clamp shut, glued together by blood and they were too heavy to lift. Just before she floated into unconsciousness, a scraping noise of shoes on tarmac grew nearer.

* * *

**Last Night**

_She was drunk. She, Remy Beauregard Hadley, was absolutely out of it. Words slurring into an unintelligible alphabet soup she plead on with the bartender, inebriated courage making her stubborn and foolish._

"_Jussssshhhst one more drwinnk, goo onnnnn. I won't tellll anybody. I sweaaaar."_

_The bartender frowned and slowing as he wiped a glass he replied "Docto,r I think you've had enough now. Come on, I'll call you a taxi – don't give me that look! It's either that or walk home and I'm having your keys"_

_Shooting him a look she stumbled away from the bar, off in search of another place in which to drown her sorrows. As if reading her mind the bartender, John she thinks his name was, held up a mobile._

"_No, you're not going anywhere. Here, what's your boyfriend's name again?" He said firmly, eyebrows raised in such an expression of mockery similar to House, that Thirteen wanted badly to hit him. Deciding that the lawsuit probably wasn't worth it, nor being barred from her favourite place in town (not to mention the bruised knuckles she'd have to deal with in the morning), she sat on the stool again and looked at him glumly._

"_Foreman. But I don't think yooouu should botherrrr him though. I'm fine to drwivveee!" she protested weakly._

_Giving her an authorative stare, John or whatever his name was, rang Foreman. A half a minute later the chat was over and Foreman on his way. Wondering why men could always manage to have such short phone conversations, Thirteen didn't notice Foreman until a warm hand gently shook her shoulder to get her attention. About to give some alcohol fuelled jubilant greetings, Thirteen's smile stopped short. Foreman did __**not**__ look happy. His scowl broke through her mood and she registered the sudden change almost immediately, surprising given the amount she'd had to drink. After all she was no lightweight; she had been at that bar for a while now._

_The short stumble to the car was lost as her vision grew hazy, her eyes struggling to stay open. Once dumped rather unceremoniously in the passenger seat, she was only half awake when Foreman began his rant. "Downward spiral" this and "Self destruction again" that. She was sick of him sometimes. His over concern made him feel like a parent and she really wasn't in the mood for a lecture. After all, she knew better than anyone what an annoying parent could feel like. _

* * *

**That Morning**

"Just leave it out will you Foreman? I'm fine, you're fine, everything is just fine." She retorted angrily, nostrils flaring briefly.

"I am not going to just stand here and watch you slide down this slippery slope again Remy, I'm just **not**." Foreman held his hands out to her despairingly. After a short pause, it was Thirteen who broke the silence.

"I think you should make your own way to work Eric. We'll talk about this later, when House isn't breathing down our necks."

Nothing more was said, it didn't need to be. Their body language said it all: Thirteen with her arms crossed furiously, Foreman with his beaten down stupor and rejected puppy expression. For once, they didn't need House to read their emotions or thoughts. Unfortunately, this open book would not reach the Diagnostics Department at all. Not in one piece anyway.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: Taken**

**Present – Chase **

Urgh. He had been sitting at the glass table in the DDX room for almost forty five minutes now, just staring at his distorted reflection and swilling around the dregs of his long forgotten coffee. Where was Taub and Thirteen? I mean he could understand House being late, I mean hell when was he ever on time, but the others? Sure Thirteen had the odd late night drowning her sorrows, but she was always there in the morning, drooping eyes, yawns and all. The same went for Taub, he hardly ever didn't show on time. Usually he got there early, too busy from fighting with his partner(s) about whatever torrid affair he had going at the time to sleep, so he instead did some paperwork.

He had seen Foreman earlier though; god he had looked a mess. Not wanting to pry, Chase had asked hesitantly whether or not he wanted to talk about it but Eric's stare was enough to make him drop the half hearted effort. Chase sighed, running a hand through his sun streaked locks. He could tell from his quivering jaw and rigid expression of anger and concern that it was about Thirteen, probably something to do with her late night escapades. After all, it wasn't as if he and Alison weren't having their problems. Their most recent fight had been the worst, leaving both of them unable to face each other. He wondered whether they would ever get over it. The things they had said last Friday kept echoing round his head, things he should have said, things he shouldn't. The things that she said, the false accusations and the true ones; they made him ashamed, uncomfortable and volatile.

Burying his tanned face in his hands, he didn't hear his attacker approach before it was too late. The balaclava clad opponent reached out a hand to Chase's neck, holding a chlorophyll soaked handkerchief in the other. Robert's eyes widened in shock, as he saw the shadowy figure's reflection in the table, just as the man's hands clamped down on his face. Forced to inhale the spiked cloth, despite his weak protests, he felt his vision blurring. The cloying, sweet, almost perfume like aroma overtook him quickly, his world going dark within seconds.

* * *

**Present – Taub**

The repetitive ticking and tocking of the clock was irritating him immensely, to say the least. Taub rubbed his clinically gloved hands together, focusing once again on the lab results which were swaying in his vision. Damn it. He'd barely gotten any sleep last night, forced to reside on the cheap couch after his latest women troubles. It wasn't that the couch was that uncomfortable. It was the fact that his subconscious would not let him close his eyes for even a second, before his worried thoughts flooded his mind. What was he doing? Did he ever expect their relationship to last? Could he bear to leave either woman? He sighed. It had been the worst night of his life when she had found out about her; the other woman. His fatigue also seemed to be catching up with him. The figures in front of him were hazy, and seemed to be swimming.

Shaking his balding head to clear the fog, Taub's mind was drawn to other things. What had Foreman been so angry about? On his way to the elevator up to the Diagnostics Department earlier, wondering whether or not he could risk a nap in the Doctor's Lounge, he had bumped in to Eric who had a face like thunder. He hadn't taken very kindly to being bumped in to either. With a hostile glare he had strode purposely from the scene, coffee miraculously un-spilled in hand. Not wanting to be in the DDX room alone with him, Taub had instead chosen to venture down to the labs in hope of getting some tests back to show House.

Fat load of good that had done him. He had barely achieved anything in the whole hour he had been sat there. He wondered briefly whether he would have been better off at home. He dismissed the thought at once however, home as definitely worse than here. After all, here he could hide from Rachel's different fits of rage and sorrow. Unfortunately House had recently decided to inform all of the nursing staff about Taub's current relationship predicament, leading to a lot of dirty looks. Still, looks he could deal with – for the moment anyway.

Turning to grab another patient file from the desk behind him, Taub was knocked flat on his back by the abductor's blow. The punch had glanced his temple, leaving a definite bruise and the former plastic surgeon unconscious. Grabbing both feet, the man began to drag Taub's lifeless body to the door, ready for the trunk.

It was happening, everything as going to plan. With a satisfied smile, he dialled the boss's number.

* * *

**Two Days Ago**

_Foreman lent his head on the doorframe, unsure of what to do. Was he making the right decision? How many times had he gone over this – what if he was found out? He would lose his medical license for sure, be pulled off of the clinical trial. The inner turmoil was excruciating. What House had advised hadn't helped much either. _

"_Do it if you love her". Those words kept swirling round and round, always on the tip of his tongue. Did he love her? Well he felt strongly about her, he cared for her safety and wellbeing. But it was more than that, he knew it. He, Eric Foreman was in love with Dr Remy Hadley. Thirteen, the elusive one. The one who had such beauty, charm and intelligence yet who was weighed down with an onerous burden. She did not let her illness define her; she was who she was. She was strong._

_Using that strength and taking a shuddery breath, he walked over to the medical fridge. Tearing the sticker off of the transparent IV bag, he swapped it for Thirteen's quickly and effectively. He had done it. Praying silently that she would improve now that she wasn't on the placebo, he left the room._


	3. Chapter 3

**Authors Note: First of all, thank you so much for all of the positive feedback and reviews everyone! It has really helped to spur me on with my writing, so I'm sorry there was a little delay. Not making any promises, but I will try to upload a new chapter every four/five days. On the weekends though, I have some more time so I will probably upload more frequently then **

* * *

**Chapter 3: Missing**

**Present – Foreman**

At first he had been angry – where the hell was she? He sincerely hoped that she wasn't wasting a day down at the nearest bar because of their earlier conversation. He didn't know what to do, what to say. Her illness was dictating their relationship, taking control of their lives even before serious symptoms were showing. He needed her to just stop for a second and **listen**. He had thought that her signing up for a new Huntington's drug trial was a good sign, and it had been at least for a little while. She'd stopped with the endless one night stands and booze; stopped trying to kill herself before she died from disease. It had been going so well – he couldn't understand it.

Yesterday morning she had seemed fine, actually perkier than usual. Which was saying a lot, since she had the same sarcastic and cynical approach as House nowadays. Since learning that she was positive for Huntington's, she had pushed everyone away, even more than usual. However, the trials and their relationship had given her some hope to cling on to. He hadn't seen much of her that Thursday, granted, but that evening her mood change was evident. When he waited by the entrance to the ER, wondering briefly why Cameron seemed so stressed, she had not turned up. He had seen her car pull away before he could reach her, and by the time he had unlocked his own vehicle, all traces of her were gone. There was no way for him to follow her. Puzzled by her sudden departure he had gone back to her apartment to wait for her, which was when he had received the call about a very inebriated Remy.

And now she had done another disappearing act. Where had she gone this time? And why hadn't she at least texted him to let him know that she wasn't coming in to work? It was worrying, she had definitely said she'd make her own way to work, yet at work she wasn't. He frowned, setting down the newspaper he had been near strangling in frustration. He had already paged her, twice. Deciding that the silent treatment was incredibly juvenile, he called Thirteen's mobile. It rang for a while, before the line was abruptly cut off. Foreman thought he could hear the noise of glass crunching in the background, just before the receiver hung up.

He was now getting quite concerned. No matter how reckless Remy was, she hardly ever neglected a page or phone call. He stood up and stretched his aching legs; he'd been sat mulling his thoughts over for almost a whole hour now. Wondering whether or not Taub had seen her, I mean they weren't close but she could have been hiding in the lab and left her phone at home, he descended the stairs swiftly. What he saw however stopped him in his tracks. Taub was nowhere to be seen, and his coffee seemed to have spilled all over the desk, causing a spreading mahogany stain on the paperwork.

Frowning slightly and coming to the conclusion that Taub must have just gone to the bathroom to clean up his lab coat or something, Eric got in the elevator to the seventh floor. The DDX room seemed eerily quiet, he was certain that Chase had been in there earlier. Before he could investigate any further however, an annoyingly familiar polished cane struck him lightly on the back of the head. Un-amused and feeling a bit queasy as to the sudden vanishing act of his colleagues, Foreman tuned around slowly.

"House," He said gravely, facing the grey haired man in front of him, "We have a problem."

* * *

**Present – House**

Shit. This day kept on getting worse and worse. Not only is his vicodin supply running out, but three of his ducklings have gone walkabout. Oh and guess who Cuddy made responsible for looking for them? That's right, him, the greatest doctor ever known. Well that's a bit over the top but hell: he had style. Who else could make a shed load of money by torturing fellows, putting patients through ridiculous tests and eating nachos with coma patients?

Sigh. He sincerely hoped that his minions were off on some kind of medical threesome that he could watch. That way, he'd have a valid excuse to tape it ready for Cuddy – it's** medical**. Never mind, filming it would have to wait until he and Foreman found them. God teamwork sucked. What's more, these police officers they were speaking to were ridiculous to say the least. He was surprised they had managed to get through police training at all. In fact, they probably bought their way in. After all, that's how it worked right? House decided not to broadcast his musings out loud for once, deciding that his employee's whereabouts was a little more important than his humour. Not a lot more important, but a little bit. After all, since the stress of the missing person case, Cuddy had stopped wearing such low cut tops.

Now that, was worth his time.

* * *

**Present – Princeton Police Department**

Detective Sawyers pressed his scarred fingers to his temples, exhausted. God this had been a hard day at work – understatement of the year, he thought bitterly. Not only had three respectable doctors gone missing almost simultaneously, he was being pressure by an overly concerned boyfriend and his jackass of a boss. The irritable doctor in front of him was none other than Dr Gregory House, famed diagnostician who was the golden boy of Princeton Plainsboro hospital, just down the road from his office. Yet this trophy cabinet genius couldn't help him figure out the missing doctor's location.

Sawyers tried desperately once more to recount the information they had been given: three doctors who all work in the same department all went missing, around about the same time today. One of them was a gifted brunette who was currently on a medical trial for her degenerative disease. She has a history of alcohol abuse and risky situations. The second doctor was an Australian blonde who was only working under Dr House again temporarily, due to the recent loss of a different fellow named Kutner. The last doctor was a balding Jewish guy who, from House's description, enjoyed 'screwing with everything that wasn't his wife'. Each one of them could have crazy stalkers after them, there were loads of motives. Fantastic.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: Thanks for all of the reviews again – please feel free to write more! This chapter is mostly centred on Chirteen (told you I'd get it in there somewhere) and so apologies for anyone who was waiting to see what happened to the others. AS it's the weekend I've been able to upload a lot more, and I'm glad you're enjoying reading it as much as I am writing it. Your comments have really helped motivate me! Enjoy the new chapter **

* * *

**Chapter 4: A Harsh Awakening**

**Present – Thirteen**

She awoke slowly from her crash induced slumber, the pain in her head and side screaming at her. This raw, burning sensation made her want to cry out as loudly as possible, yet she could make no sound. Taking a shuddery breath to calm herself only slightly, she tried to assess how badly damaged she was without moving. After all, her eyes were still shut tight – probably glued together with what she deducted was dried blood –and she didn't want to draw attention to herself. Not yet anyway.

After all, she was currently blind, in an unknown environment and unable to hear due to the unhelpful side effects of her serious concussion, making it difficult to focus on anything. Her mind was working sluggishly, like an old fan clogged with dust trying to spin but failing. Starting at her toes, she tried to move a slight millimetre to the left, trying to gauge whether she was injured in her legs. It felt okay, a little achy sure but no stabbing pains. Next she experimentally moved her torso, only to suck in a large gasp of air through her teeth. Trying not to whimper, she felt cautiously along her left side, finding only what she guessed were a few scrapes from where the glass had hit her. Deciding that her right side must have impacted on the car door she, as lightly as possible, caressed the wound from her abdomen up to her armpit.

Another wave of nausea and pain hit her, causing her to bite back tears. From what she had felt, she guessed that there was a deep cut from the metal of the car door, and that she had maybe cracked a few of her ribs. She was quite lucky, in the circumstances. Her hand felt sticky and warm though, telling her that she was definitely still bleeding. Breathing carefully, she raised her hand up to touch the nucleus, the core, the centre of her agony: the back of her head. Instantly she was met with a hot fountain of blood, flowing so fast that she actually opened her eyes in shock.

The world above her was a swirling mass of blurred grey, and it took her at least a few minutes to clear the fog in her vision. From her position on the cold concrete floor, she was certainly nowhere near a hospital. The ceiling was made from dilapidated and crumbling square tiles, similar to the kind you might find above an old changing room in a gym. Furry emerald mould covered a good few of them, as well as a horribly familiar crimson stain. Lifting her head to try to get a closer look, pressure increased behind her eyes, so sudden and painful that she, once again, blacked out.

* * *

**Present – Chase**

When Chase opened his eyes he found himself looking in to the same ceiling, unbeknownst to him, as Thirteen. With a muffled groan he pushed himself up on to his elbows, almost keeling over due to the drug still in his system. Rubbing his tired eyes, he looked around at his small prison. It was a small and dank room, with an ashen, hard floor covered in disturbing stains. A few rusted meat hooks hung on scarily corroded chains above him, reflecting the small natural light coming in from a barred rectangular window to his left. The ceiling was as depressing as the rest of the room, faded and also stained. Panicking slightly as he took in his foreboding surroundings, Chase whirled around and what he saw almost made him fall over again in surprise: there, a few feet behind him, lay the broken shell of Thirteen.

Reeling with shock, he crawled over to her hastily, not trusting his feet to work properly. She was surrounded in a puddle of claret, unmoving and as still as a corpse. With trembling fingers he felt her pale neck and exhaled a quick sigh of relief; there was a pulse. It was faint, fainter than he would have liked, but it was there. Pushing a damp lock of her chocolate hair aside, he frowned as the red halo around her face grew. Quickly going in to his medical mode, he turned her body gently round so that she was not so curled up in her foetal position. Her previously beige blouse was black and heavy with her blood as he ripped it open, too afraid for her health to care about the exquisite, ivory skin he had exposed.

A long and worryingly deep cut opened out on her right side, from her petite waist to her upper torso. Carefully, so as not to wake her from her blissful respite, he stuck a small finger in the hole. Thankfully it was not as deep as he had first thought, and the blood was stopping; from that area anyway. Quickly stripping off his lab coat, he ripped the sleeves off and tore them in to narrow strips. Pressing them on to her wound, he bound them round her waist, noticing how skinny and fragile she was looking. She had been losing weight recently, but she was still lighter than he would have liked. Gently securing the makeshift bandage with a quick knot, he turned to the major trauma at hand: her head.

Dried blood covered her face, but apart from a small gash above her eyebrow the front of her head appeared fine. As quickly s he dared, he rolled her slowly over so that she was lying on her stomach and recoiled sharply. The back of her head was covered in shattered glass fragments, mixed in with copper liquid and her matted hair. Wiping his hands on his trousers, he picked out all of the shallow pieces of glass that he could reach. Not wanting to remove the deeper ones, for fear of more blood loss, he used the rest of his coat to bandage her up again.

Flipping her over and moving her head so that it was supported on his lap, he contemplated their situation now that he had done all that he could for her, medically, for that moment. They were in a, quite literally thanks to Thirteen's injuries, very sticky situation indeed. They were without mobiles, no one probably noticed they had gone yet, and the people who had captured them had no qualms when it came to extreme force. Sighing tiredly, he leant against the wall and was soon asleep, Thirteen in his arms.


	5. Chapter 5

**Authors Note: Hey guys, sorry for the late uploading I'e just had a bit of school work that needed to be done. Hopefully this will give you guys more to review, I'm so thankful for all of the feedback. If anyone has any ideas for the story feel free to write it into your review or PM me. :) Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter 5: Situation**

**Present – Chase**

A sudden grating noise roused him immediately, as the almost archaic door swung forward, making a deafening racket as it scraped the floor. Before Chase had time to react, an unconscious form was thrown unceremoniously to the ground in front of him: Taub. Taking care not to wake Thirteen, he carefully pulled her up from his legs and laid her back down on the ground once more. Bolting upright as soon as he finished, he immediately regretted his move. He felt so light headed and nauseas that he dry retched, before crawling over to the older doctor.

Flipping Taub over to face him, Chase quickly assessed his medical condition. Apart from a purplish bruise on his temple however, there seemed to be nothing of concern. Just as he felt a weak smile of relief tugging at his permanent frown, a loud groan came from the other side of the room. Whipping his head around as fast as possible, Chase stumbled forward to help a whimpering Thirteen up into a sitting position. She rubbed her eyes tiredly, her movements at a snail's pace. Knowing that he needed to assess whether or not she had any brain damage from her concussion, he gently pulled her hand down from her forehead and reached in to the back pocket of his trousers. Thank god they hadn't robbed him of his penlight, Chase thought as he shined it in to her eyes.

Aside from her pupils being incredibly dilated with pain, her reaction times were near enough what he had expected from a head trauma that large. Licking her parched lips, she spoke as hoarsely as a fifty year old smoker:

"Chase." She began, deliriously.

"I'm here Thirteen," he reassured her. Frowning slightly as the pain in her head increased – any kind of action irritated her blinding headache – she continued.

"Chase… where are we? How did I-"she grimaced. "The last thing I remember is being in the car on the way to work, and then everything went black."

"Thirteen, I think it's safe to say that we've definitely been kidnapped." His thick Australian drawl was harder for her mind to follow than other speech, so she waited a few minutes before continuing.

"When did we… I mean how long have I been…?" She trailed off.

"I'm not sure exactly, they drugged me. But it's been at least an hour or two since I woke up, and you were out for all of that."

She nodded slowly, deep in thought and then clutched her head tightly with her hands, biting her lip to stop herself from crying out. That probably hadn't been the best move to make. Taking in her tortured expression, Chase felt more lost than ever. They had no real bandages, no sterile area (even though infection had most likely already set in), no pain killers, no stitches and no defibrillators in case anything went wrong. She needed to have a CT to check for brain damage and skull fractures. He sighed as she went limp again, passing out in to blissful ignorance. Yet he did not rest so easily; Thirteen needed better medical attention and fast.

* * *

**Present – Taub**

Opening his reluctant eyes, Christopher Taub was momentarily blinded by the dim light, it seeming harsher than it actually was. A dull throbbing grated his temple, and he let out a small moan. Raising himself up on one elbow and looking around, he almost sank back to the ground with shock. There on the other side of the room lay a dishevelled Chase and corpse like Thirteen, surrounded by a magenta pool of all too familiar bodily fluids. Hesitantly, he moved on to all fours and scurried closer.

Sensing his proximity, Chase's eyes snapped open, searching for any new threats. His tensed muscles visibly relaxed however, as soon as he saw Taub. Giving him a small quirky smile, Chase glanced down protectively at Thirteen, before answering the unspoken question in Taub's eyes:

"I was forced narcotics, she was in a car accident. From the looks of it, you were punched out into snooze land. We've all been here for around four hours now, give or take a bit. We don't know why or who by, but we've all definitely been kidnapped for a reason."

Taub nodded, then looked down at the dark stains which had caught the corner of his eye. Coffee had besmirched the whole lower half of his lab coat and all he could think of was how angry Rachel was going to be. Following his line of sight, Chase gave a derisive laugh, shocking Taub out of his pondering.

"Um, I think we have things a little more important than your outfit to worry about thanks."

Embarrassed but determined not to let his slight blush show him up, Taub gave a small click of his teeth before replying.

"Well for your information, my head is killing me and actually I was thinking about my wife," He retorted angrily.

"I think my head injury is a little more extensive, and anyway don't you have like two women to choose from," Thirteen's unexpected groan caused both men to stop bickering and stare at the groggy woman below them.

Guilt was not an emotion Taub felt often. I mean sure, he didn't exactly feel good with his affairs but right then he felt dirtier than ever. Deciding that they should all work together and so becoming the bigger man of the situation, Chase pretended not to notice Taub's abashment.

Focusing his efforts on rebuilding his composure and staring at a meat hook, Taub waited a little while before turning back to the then seated Thirteen and began his rambling apology. Holding up a bruised hand she stopped his mumbling, and gave a weak smirk.

"Relax. We all need to face whatever this is as one, and I'm probably more than a little bad tempered right now anyway. Although, I think I have a certifiable excuse."

They sat in silence for a few more moments, each lost within their own worlds. Contemplating their horrible situation, their families, hell even their annoying jobs. Suddenly out of the blue, Taub spoke:

"Thirteen what's your real name?"

Her ripped eyebrows rose sharply in amusement, but it was Chase who answered with a snort of disbelief.

"Seriously?! We've worked together in the same hospital environment for like a year and a half now, and you **still **don't know her name?"

Thirteen winced slightly as his raised voice worsened her headache, before turning in turn to Robert.

"How do you know then? I've never told you, and House sure doesn't know."

Now it was Chase's turn to turn a lighter shade of maroon.

"I uh, I heard Cuddy call you it once,"

Smiling, she turned to the still bemused Taub.

"It's Hadley, Remy Hadley."


	6. Chapter 6

**Authors Note: So guys, this chapter mostly focuses on the other side of things as the previous ones have been more on Thirteen and the others. Also, in case you hadn't realised yet, all flashbacks will be in italics to stop any confusion. Thanks for all of the positive feedback, and keep reviewing! Who knows, I might even get a favourite or two. Not promising, but in the next chapter I'm thinking of revealing who the captor is. Any ideas guys? :)**

* * *

**Chapter 6: Trial and Error**

**Present – House**

Urgh, when would this guy ever stop talking? He had been listening to Sawyers drone on and on for the last hour, yet the entire police department still doesn't have many leads. To make matters worse, his leg was hurting again and Wilson had refused to give him any more Vicodin until his ducklings were safe. Trust him to put on the whole 'knight in shining armour' act.

So far they'd had one witness claim to have seen someone who looked like Thirteen from the back at a traffic junction, just before a major accident. Another bystander claimed that he saw someone in the mist carrying what looked like a body to a car boot before driving off. No one had seen the car number plate. Taub was last seen in the labs, and according to the forensic nerds who had rubbed their virgin hands with glee as they tested the hospital, to come up with the mind blowing conclusion that the coffee spillage was no accident. I mean, well duh! He had been kidnapped for Christ's sake, of course he might knock over his beverage in the process. That is unless his recent exploits with his wife had left him in a mocha driven rage which caused him to go into a caffeine crushing rampage. Huh, that rhymed.

Speaking of the devil, and the devil's mistress, Rachel had looked pretty upset when she received the news that Taub was officially 'a missing person'. Apparently, House's comforting comment that he was probably just at the nearest strip club investigating thongs for valentines day hadn't gone down too well, as Wilson had taken that moment to stomp particularly hard on his foot. Grumbling about disability and how cripples were discriminated against, he had left the room to go and talk to idiot 101: Detective Sawyers.

The only other lead they had on Chase was that Foreman had seen him on the way to the DDX room, probably where he would be doing House's paperwork for him. God he loved his job. Speaking of jobs, he'd have to make the minions work off the slack and probably take it out of their holiday time. Yeah, that would really rile them up, not to mention Cuddy. Smiling as he imagined her red face and bossy demeanour, he turned back to his game boy under the table and pretended once more to be listening.

* * *

**Present – Foreman**

Staring in to the gents' bathroom mirror, Foreman felt lost. They had been working on it all morning, and yet they hardly had any evidence at all. Ringing his hands with anxiety, he thought desperately back to that mornings events; his last words had been wasted on reprimanding her dangerous behaviour. Well, she was in a much worse position now. The police department had concluded that all of the disappearances were definitely linked, and that they were most likely being kept on the outskirts of town as they waited to make a ransom call.

He hadn't believed it at first, when they told him. They were to wait until they, the bad guys, made demands concerning his one and only true love's health and well being? Speaking of health, Foreman's heart suddenly pounded in his chest as his thoughts caused him to shudder with dread. No, it couldn't have, it had had positive results. There weren't any other problems, he shouldn't worry. But what if something did go wrong and no one knew? Her blood would be on his hands, the same hands that switched her from placebo just a few days ago. He had to warn someone, anyone.

But that might mean the end of his medical license, the end of his whole career. Could he really risk all that? Of course, he chastised his own conscience, it was **Remy**. Her life meant far more to him than his own, even if she didn't know it yet. But she might not even have any problems, who could he tell? Sigh, he knew the answer already. After all, there was only one person crazy enough to keep that a secret, only one person who despite himself he trusted.

Taking a moment to compose himself, he left the bathroom and returned to Cuddy's office. Sitting down once more in the unoccupied seat behind House, he whispered under his breath.

"House, we need to talk about Thirteen."

* * *

**That morning**

_Climbing out of the buckled car, he walked over to the far worse vehicle in front of him, the soles of his shoes crunching broken glass. There lay his target, who from the looks of it had been thrown about like a ragdoll. Blood seeped from her every pore, he wondered briefly whether he had hurt her too badly. Shaking his head to clear his doubts, he recalled the boss's words earlier that morning. _

"_Hurt her, make her bleed. I don't care if she's dying, just make sure she's alive for the big reveal. After all, she'll be kept with two other doctors, just make sure they keep her alive until then. Make her hurt so much she would rather die than be in that pain. Then, when evening draws near and she's barely holding on, then you can bring her to me."_

_He focused on the task in front of him as distant sirens were heard. Walking closer to the dented car door, he kicked it open, just as a mobile sounded. Locating the source of the disturbance, he clicked answer to hear a man's gruff voice laced with concern on the other end. Chuckling darkly, he threw the mobile down back on the ground before stamping on it, breaking the circuitry. Shame, it had been a nice phone. But orders were orders he supposed._

_Picking her up, bridal style, he flung her in the boot and slammed the lid shut. After another hesitation, he cut a few air holes in the top. There, now at least she could breathe a little easier. A small consolation, but a bonus nonetheless he reasoned. Revving the engine, he pulled away from the scene, unnoticed thanks to the fog. Dialling the number on his significantly worse pay-as-you-go phone, he drove as normally as possible, not drawing any excess attention to himself just as he had been taught._

"_Is it done?" answered the receiver._

"_Target acquired, bleeding and ready. Taking her to the dock as we speak,"_

"_Good work." The line went dead, and with it Thirteen's hope._


	7. Chapter 7

**Authors Note: Hey guys, here's a bonus chapter. Sorry I took a while, but I had to research some of the medical stuff. Hope you enjoy the chapter and please do review! :)**

* * *

**Chapter 7: Problems**

**Present – Chase**

Sitting on the floor of wherever the hell he was, was boring and cold. In fact not just cold but freezing. He had cut up his lab coat to bandage Thirteen, and so was left bare armed, and to kill the last few minutes he had taken to counting his goose bumps. Still, he was happy that the bleeding seemed to have stopped for now at least. Glancing over at Thirteen, deep in thought, he frowned. Both he and Taub were shivering, yet she seemed to be perspiring. From her position leaning against the wall, a definite patch of sweat glistened on her brow, clearly visible in the fading afternoon light. Her skin was also flushed, a light pink colour. Cautiously, he walked over to where she was sitting and felt her forehead with the back of his hand. Her flesh burned with obvious heat, and she slumped lower down the wall.

"Fever." He called to Taub, lying her down on her side. Taub hurried over, and pressed two cool fingers to her neck.

"Pulse is racing, doesn't look like it's going to come down anytime soon."

Thirteen's eyes were closing, as she almost drifted off. Seeing this, Chase shook her gently, trying to keep her awake.

"Thirteen?" He called. Her eyelids fluttered open, and remained half closed.

"She's drowsy, keep her awake Taub. After a trauma that large she mustn't fall asleep again, do whatever it takes. I think it's her kidneys," He summarised in a shaky voice, trying to keep his cool. This was not good.

Taub's pale face grew whiter still as he grasped what Chase was telling him.

"Acute renal failure. What can we do?" He gulped.

"We'll just have to try and keep her as comfortable as possible, and keep her awake until help arrives. She needs a CT can to be sure, but I suspect that she's got some brain swelling which also needs treating as soon as possible."

Glancing around the room for something to help, Chase spotted just the miracle they needed on the far side of the room, hiding in the corner. Sprinting over to it, he struggled to turn the rusted tap. A small trickle of mud coloured water came out, but after a few minutes some clearer fluid seeped into his fingers. It wasn't the cleanest, but it would have to do. Cupping as much as he could in his hands, he carried some over to Thirteen.

"Hey Remy, I need you to open your mouth for a second. Come on, this will make you feel a bit better, cool you down a little bit. I bet you're parched,"

He tipped the water into her dry mouth and she swallowed sluggishly, not seeming to be fully awake. He then returned to the tap, this time in soak another strip of his lab coat. As he held the thin fabric under the dangerously slow stream, he raised his eyebrows at Taub. He shook his head and mouthed that her pulse wasn't going down, he didn't know what to do. Chase returned to the still feverish Thirteen and placed the strip on her brow. She was so hot now that he swore he could see the water evaporating off of her skin in front of him. At the touch of the garment however her tensed body relaxed some, and she gave a small groan of relief.

Signalling to Taub that he should go and get himself something to drink, Chase sat down next to Thirteen, his head in his hands. There was nothing they could do but wait.

* * *

**Present – House**

"You mean to tell me, that after asking my medical opinion on the matter to which I advised you **not **to switch her, you went ahead and did it anyway? They are going to love you in prison; I hear that the whole rebel attitude is a huge turn on in there."

House was still not having a fun day. I mean, when could he catch a break? He'd had his game boy confiscated by Cuddy after a while, and she hadn't even gotten the least bit excited when he suggested a spanking for his 'naughty boy' behaviour. What's more, then he had been dragged out to the bathroom where Foreman thought it a good use of his time to once more bore House to death over his love life and its problems.

"You told me to do it if I love her, so…" Foreman trailed off.

"And you actually bought that crap? Well, you got into this mess yourself, you can get out of it. Once we find Thirteen and the others we can see if there are any problems, but chances are you have nothing to worry about. The car crash may even have killed her upon impact – that way your hands are clean!"

Foreman didn't smile. Taking this as his cue to leave, House pushed open the door and almost knocked over Detective Sawyers in the process. Giving him a cool authorative glare, Sawyers pushed past him to go into the gents. Sigh, even that little bit of fun had been taken away. He was a cripple for God's sakes! Didn't that warrant him even a little bit of lee way when it came to the law? Deciding to annoy Cuddy some more, House set off in pursuit of one of her bras.

* * *

**Present – ?**

She played with her machete idly, her thoughts somewhere else. This was it. It was nearly time for the show, the big finale moment. The moment when she would shock the hell out of her darling captives, the moment where she would issue her demands and make them pay for their sins. Nothing could help them now, it was their fault that she was in this situation, and now was the time for them to pay their penance to her.

They probably didn't even know who had captured them yet, but they would work it out. After all they had… she checked her wristwatch. Around three hours until the show. Plenty of time to muse over why they were there. Speaking of them, she wondered how the main target was handling her situation. After all, she had made her experience only a tiny bit of pain at this point, nowhere near to what she would face later. But she deserved it. She had forced her to be a captive once, well now it was her turn.

Smiling grimly, she turned back to one of her lackeys who wordlessly handed her the remote for the screen. Zooming in using the camera installed in the holding area, her grin widened. They were not happy bunnies. Turning to her right hand man she ordered him quickly:

"Separate them for a bit. Don't hurt them too much, if you threaten the girl the others will comply. I know it, believe me."

Turning back to her knife, she ran her fingers over the blade again and again. Everything was finally failing in to place. She would make Remy pay.


	8. Chapter 8

**Authors Note: Okay so in this chapter you guys finally get to know who the captor is! I know I said that this is centred on series 5, but as it is AU I threw a little of season 7 in there as well. Let me know what you think and please review! The timing of the story in relation to the episodes is a little wobbly, but I just couldn't think of anyone better to have as the bad guy. Also, if you're not a fan of AU, please don't hate me! :) Enjoy guys.**

**PS: Leh-housemaniac, you guessed it already! But I couldn't give the game away then, or it would ruin all of the fun :) ****Also Amie and KooshGID thank you for you're continued support. Keep reviewing!**

* * *

**Chapter 8: Captor Revealed (finally!)**

**Present – Thirteen**

She had never felt so exhausted in her entire life. Every second was a battle to keep her eyes prised open as the darkness threatened to consume her again. After a little while however, pain in her flanks caused her to bite her lip to keep from crying out, making sure she wouldn't fall asleep any time soon.

Chase kept a cool hand pressed on her abdomen whilst shaking her every ten minutes, continuing the charade of preventing her slumber when unbeknownst to him Thirteen was in agony. Another spike of pain caused her whole body to spasm, finally alerting Chase to her discomfort. His worried eyes conveyed his over concern and Thirteen couldn't decide whether it was the fever talking, or that she may have found something she didn't know was there. Could she be falling for her co worker?

Shaking her head to clear those thoughts, she pondered their situation. Who could want such a thing from them? Their captor hadn't been revealed to them as of yet, and she felt ashamed to say that she was rather hoping it would stay that way. She feared whoever would care so little about how much they got hurt before making their demands; extreme violence was certainly not out of the question. Chase moved forward outside of her vision, and she wondered where he was going now. Hopefully to get another cool compress for her forehead, she was feeling unbelievably hot right now.

Immediately she felt sickening regret, he was doing so much for her already. She would do the same for him but still, he seemed to be genuinely concerned for her health. When he returned this time however, he wiped at her mouth with another cool piece of cloth. Huh. She must have bitten her lip so hard that blood had flowed down her chin.

"Thanks… Chase," Urgh, her voice sounded hoarse even by her standards. Plenty of times after waking up from a one night stand after a night on the town she sounded rough, but this was taking it to a whole new level. Before Chase could reply however, the noise of the door creaking forwards on its hinges made a deafening racket. Praying that no fresh horror would came out, Thirteen shut her eyes and felt Chase stiffen beside her. Taub sensed the threat also and moved from the opposite side of the room, where he had previously been perched wringing his hands in trepidation. Whatever happened next, at least they would be together.

Or so they thought.

* * *

**Present – Taub**

A six foot tall thug entered their prison cell, his identity masked from them by a blood red bandana, leaving only his steely glare visible to them. Taub flexed his dirty fingers anxiously behind his back: this guy meant business. In one scarred fist he held a bowie knife, in the other some black material. Raising a threatening eyebrow, the gargantuan jailor spoke:

"Listen up. We can do this the easy way…" He stared at each of them in turn, daring them to disagree, "or the other way. Now trust me, you want to go the easy way my friends." His tone was gruff and raw, similar to Thirteen's current vocal situation.

Apparently the others noticed it too, and Taub saw Chase try to hide a small smirk. It did not go unnoticed.

"Alright there is nothing to smile about. Now, I've got orders that you little bunnies are to be separated for a little while, and the Boss will speak to you all individually. How does that sound eh?"

Chase and Taub shot furtive glances at each, both thinking differently but along the same lines. Without them, Thirteen would be dead before morning. Taub reckoned he owed it to her to try and fight on her behalf, and from the looks of it Chase would take both the brute and him out if he didn't. Coiling his muscles in anticipation, Taub raised himself slightly on his haunches. Seeing his movement the man chuckled.

"Good luck with that boys. Now, if either of you try anything, princess over there is going to get it. Kapiche?"

Chase evidently decided to call the man's bluff, however just as he swung back his arm to punch 'Mr. scary eyes' he was knocked off his feet by his opponent. Taub watched dumbstruck as Chase's back collided with the opposite wall, and a resounding thwack echoed. Shoving Taub out of the way, the man raised Thirteen up by her hair.

"I warned you about the conditions. You boys need to learn that actions do have consequences."

And with that final word, he plunged the knife into Thirteen's side laceration, twisting the blade until she gave a bloodcurdling scream of anguish. Satisfied that he had made his point, he placed a dark hood over her head before dragging her out of the room by her ankles.

"I'll be back to collect baldy in a minute. Me and princess need to have a little chat beforehand."

Taub gulped. The shit had not only hit the fan but probably transformed into explosive diarrhoea by this point. As he helped Chase up, he saw that his expression mirrored his feeling of hopelessness. This was **not** good.

* * *

**Present - ?**

She didn't think she had ever been so happy in her life. She was finally going to get her deserved revenge. Then who'd be smiling huh? As she was rubbing her palms with glee, the radio behind her crackled. Picking up the walkie talkie, she fought to keep the excitement out of her voice.

"Andre, is it done?"

"Yeah babe, I'm going to put her in the container next door. So that they can hear her – that's what you wanted right?" he replied.

"Yeah that sounds good. Are you sure she didn't recognise you? You kept the bandanna on like we agreed?"

"Yes, don't worry she didn't notice. Plus she's only ever seen a little photo of me from years back; I doubt she would have made the connection even if I hadn't worn a disguise."

"Well, I'm going down there now. Are you absolutely sure you weren't followed when you went to get the tools?"

"Yes, don't strain yourself. We've both been inside for ages girl, you know what it's like in there. I'm not going back if I can help it."

She hung up, chewing her nails deep in thought. Injecting the last of her heroine to calm her nerves, she strode over to the container Andre had told her about. Inside a battered Thirteen lay on the floor, blood covered her face. Yet her shocked stare was vibrant as ever, exactly the effect she had wanted. Thirteen coughed out a single word, laced with disbelief.

"Darrien?"


	9. Chapter 9

**Authors Note: Here's the next chapter guys, I hope you enjoy. Next week I am away on a school trip to Germany (yay!) but unfortunately that means no new updates for a while - sorry! Feel free to review, favourite and follow though :) Let me know of any plot ideas you have also, I welcome any feedback. Sorry for my upcoming absence once again!**

* * *

**Chapter 9: Demands**

**Present – Thirteen**

There in front of her stood her former cell mate, clutching a knife in one hand and a tape recorder in the other. The person she had spent six months of her life with in jail, the person who she had brought back from the brink of death just three months earlier. And yet here she stood, a triumphant sneer on her cold features.

Her mind whirred with sudden realisation, what could Darrien possibly want with her? She had saved her life hadn't she? What could she have possibly done to warrant this kidnapping. I mean she had broken her promise to not take her to hospital but she was **dying**, it wasn't like she had any other option. But Chase had told her afterwards that she had left before the police arrived, so there was no harm done really. So why was Darrien looking so far over the edge into insanity? She looked happy, gleeful to be in her position of power.

Finally her captor spoke in an all too familiar tone of hostility. Thirteen had heard her sound like that a few times before, but only when she was protecting them at meal times in jail or shooting up heroine.

"Long time no see huh?" Darrien's eyes flickered in amusement.

Thirteen struggled to remember how to shut her mouth which seemed to be permanently set in a dumbfounded expression. Struggling to think of a better response, she blurted out the first question that came to her mind.

"Why?"

Darrien merely chuckled, playing with the knife and taunting her once more.

"Don't play dumb Remy. I've waited so long to do this. I am going to cut you for every day I've been in prison and I'm going to record it. So that when you finally pass out from blood loss, which I'm going to make sure doesn't happen for a good half an hour, then I will play your screams on a loop. To make sure we entertain your accomplices next door for a while longer of course."

Thirteen gaped at her, all control in her lower jaw still evading her. Seeing as fluent speech was out of her capability right now, she stuck to a few simple words.

"Prison? But you didn't…?"

Darrien snapped, her patience finally running out. Slapping Thirteen round the face as hard as she could drew the first groan of the evening. She grinned darkly, before licking her lips and continuing.

"Don't act like you don't know what happened, you'll only make it worse for yourself". Walking over to the opposite corner, she removed an ivy coloured cloth to reveal a surgical tray, overflowing with glittering silver instruments.

"How about we get started then?"

* * *

**Three months earlier – Darrien**

_The touch of the cold steel handcuffs brought her to her senses as she was secured to the gurney. Looking up in horror at the all too familiar 'boys in blue' she shuddered. This was it: she was going back inside. After all they had been through together; Remy had let her down and brought her to the hospital. Well, she'd rather be dead than go back to prison, that was for sure. _

_As fast as her weakened body could, she yanked the IV out of her arm and pushed the officers away. One burly member she recognised from her last stay clamped both meaty hands down on her shoulders as she struggled however, before nodding to an inferior lackey. _

"_Dose her quick." He ordered. Turning to Darrien he gave her an accusatory glare, "Stop moving."_

_The scrawny kid stepped forward, syringe in hand. Oh the irony, she thought dryly, captured using her own favourite brand of contraband. Shadows clouded her vision and she was out with only her subconscious to talk to._

_When she awoke she was back in her old cell, minus Remy. Of course she thought bitterly, Saint Remy. How much do you think they paid her to drug her then take her to hospital all ready for the police department? She had thought they were together, bonded as sisters in a way no one else would ever understand. She'd helped her through prison, taken her under her wing for a bit. God the girl had needed it, turning up in a women's institute with a pretty face like hers and non existent muscles. Still, none of that mattered now, not any more Remy had broken a sacred code, the 'you scratch my back, I'll scratch yours' policy. She, Darrien, had been the one forced to listen to her moping about her brother at night. Crying to herself about how she wasn't sure she'd done the right thing and that she would one day have that to look forward to as her future. _

_Darrien was smart; she knew how to play the game. Never tell anybody anything. Ever. The only personal thing she'd ever shown or told Remy was how she got in there, but it wasn't much of a secret. She had even shown her the small faded photo of Andre, back when he had long hair. But that was all done now, in the past. _

_She was decided, Remy was dead in her books. Everything they ever did or said to each other was gone now, it never happened. She would bide her time, yes, and then she would get her revenge. Connect up with Andre and break out of this dump, yes then she would make her pay. Best wait until she's caught unawares though, Darrien mused. Make her wait a few months, wait until things cooled off a bit. Then she would strike._

* * *

**Present – Princeton Police Department**

Detective Sawyers was bored out of his mind, and he wasn't the only one. They had been going over the tiny evidence they had again and again, searching for some before unseen clue which would point them in the missing doctors' direction. Surveying the scene in front of him, he scratched at his bristling beard as he pondered.

Eric Foreman, the boyfriend of the female doctor, looked worried. His jaw was clenched so tight it looked like he might dislocate his jaw within a few seconds. Next to him sat Lisa Cuddy, dean of medicine at Princeton Plainsboro and looking thoroughly pissed off. Yet occasionally out the corner of his eye Sawyers noticed her biting her nails, deep in thought. In front of her sat House, who had apparently decided that since he wasn't allowed to play video games anymore, he would instead devote his time to napping as loudly as possible and refusing to 'wake up'. God this was such a mess.

Just then the shrill noise of his phone ringing snapped everyone out of their apparent reverie, and Sawyers hastened to get to it. Putting on his most professional voice, earning him a snort of contempt from the now awake House, he answered.

What he head made his seemingly stuck frown turn into a wide grin: they had a new lead. Thanking his co worker, he placed the receiver down again.

"Okay people we have something new to go on. Who in this room knows of a person called Darrien McCurdy?" Two hands shot up in the air at once.

"Well there was a prison breakout last week and it seems that she got through the net. Now we know she has motives to hate Dr Hadley and so we believe that she is our most likely suspect."

"Our only suspect, don't you think?" chimed in House as he rolled his eyes.

"At least it's something." Sawyers dead panned. He hoped it was.


	10. Chapter 10

**Authors Note: Hey guys, sorry for the late uploading. Germany was great fun but I've just been swamped with all of the school work I have to catch up on. Next chapter may be another little wait, depending on any more I get this week. Sorry to keep you waiting! Please keep reviewing and I welcome any new plot ideas **

* * *

**Chapter 10: Music to My Ears**

**Present – Chase**

A little while after the thug left with Remy, Taub was collected also. He was disgustingly submissive, his hands meekly held behind his back as he wore the black hood as instructed. If he had been able to stand at that moment, Chase would have taken Taub and the jailor out in one swing. They deserved it, for letting any harm come to Thirteen. A boiling seethe of rage fired up in his chest but this heated anger lasted only a few minutes, before hopelessness once more took hold.

Who was he kidding? He was no match for that ogre and Taub had only given in to human nature, the primal desire to do anything for personal survival. Look where chivalry and defiance had gotten him: his back ached terribly – he could have sworn he heard a small crack at the impact; his dignity is tatters and reputation in shreds. He was no help to the situation, he couldn't even protect himself let alone Thirteen and the others. He had never in his life felt more useless than at that moment.

He just prayed that Thirteen was okay. I mean, the brute, Andre he think he heard his name was, had threatened to hurt her for his failed attempt but he hoped he was bluffing. Oh god he hoped he was. Andre obviously hadn't had any qualms with causing her pain before though, when he stuck his blade in her side. Chase shivered with fear. He wasn't a particularly religious man but he would have sold his soul to the devil for a guarantee on her wellbeing. He wasn't quite sure when his feelings towards her had changed, but he felt strong protective urges for her. Could this be…? No, he pushed the thoughts aside. He was just upset with Allison and the recent traumatic experiences were no doubt affecting his psyche.

Just as last nights argument came back to him, a raw scream filled with searing anguish sounded from the far wall. It was a woman's, and from the hoarse vocal cords Chase had no doubt who it was: Remy. The shrieks kept on coming, almost methodically and they sounded extremely forced. He knew that Thirteen would hardly ever utter a sound of pain unless she had good cause, even then she tried to hide it. The fact that she was tearing through her throat to voice such animalistic yells was surely a sign that whatever they were doing to her, it was very real and very very unpleasant indeed.

Scurrying over to the damp wall, he rested his cheek on the side and tried to will her torture to end. Soon, after the noises did not cease, the wall was not the only thing moist. Tears trailed down his cheeks and Chase sobbed, crying for Thirteen's sake, cries she could not have. He had never felt so alone.

* * *

**Present – Taub**

Chase was not the only one hearing Thirteen's pains. Taub rested his head on his hands, his receding hairline slick with a cold sweat. He felt dirty, sordid, a convict. Why were he, and Chase and far as he could tell unless Chase was made of steel, not being persecuted? Whoever had then captive must have a personal agenda, something to do with Thirteen. But who though, who would hate her so much that they would hurt her to the point where death would be a welcome respite?

It scared him, scared him more than he would ever let on. He could not think of another time where he had felt so terrified, had such trepidation. He was a coward, not that he'd admit it. But here he was, sitting in the middle of a cold floor held hostage, feeling worried for his own circumstances when he could hear such guttural noises from a far worse place. It ought to be him in there, he thought bitterly. Immediately as he thought It however, he shook his head in disagreement. That wasn't true. Whoever this person was, they obviously only wanted her so why keep Chase and him? Why not release them with their ransom?

It was ridiculous that they had to be punished as well, for whatever she had done to upset the person. Probably one of her one night stands he mused, someone who wanted revenge. Hell it could be anyone, I mean they'd treated loads of psychopaths in House's department. If they weren't crazy when they came in, they would be when they went out. Just one of the perks of working with House he guessed.

The guilt was back again, stabbing him painfully in the gut. He now related easily to Lady Macbeth, out damn spot! Well, his hands felt so dirty right now it was a little more than a spot. He'd need to be buffed in a car wash to even scratch the surface. **He was a good person, he was a good person**. He repeated the mantra over and over again; after all it wasn't his fault that Thirteen was in trouble. Was it?

**He was a good person**. He curled up in to a ball and rocked back and forth slowly, chanting again**. He was a good person**. He wondered how many times it would take before he believed it. **He was a good person.**

* * *

**The night before – Cameron**

_Shutting the door behind her with a satisfying click, she breathed a much deserved sigh of relief. Finally she was home. The Emergency Department had been even more hectic than usual, as a coach load of school kids and three car pileup had happened early that morning. Guess whose job it was to clean up the mess? Not the pillack who wasn't looking in his mirror, nor the bus driver who was too busy yelling at children to not chew gum to look in her windshield. Her, Alison Cameron, Saint to the rescue._

_Taking a deep breath she tried to calm herself before she got too worked up. After all, she liked the hustle and bustle of the ER. She frowned at her tired reflection in the porch windows, her hair was as hectic as her day had been. Still, coming home to a loving husband would be sure to cheer her up. Plastering on a weak smiley façade, she entered the living room only to trip over some extremely pungent tennis shoes. Her irritation getting the better of her she snapped, waking up the drooling form of Chase on the sofa._

"_Why are your shoes here __**again**__? Did we not discuss why you had to clean up after your self more and try to make more of an effort with the house? And I thought you were going to make me dinner, or did you forget that I was doing a real job whilst you slept?" The angry accusations spilled out of her mouth before she could stop them, she threatened to explode._

_Raising his eyebrows an crossing his arms, Chase sat up and glared at her. He was acting like this was her fault! Putting her hands securely on her hips and bracing herself for his retort she felt white hot anger consume her. God this was going to be a long night._


	11. Chapter 11

**Authors Note: Hey guys, sorry it's a day late. Hope this chapter is okay and please do review again! I'm thinking of wrapping the story up over the next few chapters or so, I'm not sure where to go from here. I've got a few rough ideas but please feel free to give me some new ones! Enjoy! :)**

* * *

**Chapter 11: The Hunt**

**Present – House**

House was still very, very bored. I mean sure, now that they had a lead there was a bit of excitement, but they hadn't really gotten anywhere. Loads of new virgins had turned up, eager to polish Sawyers boots with their tongues. Apparently they had taken offense to his, what he thought was almost polite, enquiry as to which acne cream they were advertising. That had earned him a kick in the shin from Cuddy. His** right** leg. There wasn't enough Vicodin in the world let alone his pockets to stop that pain.

Fortunately Cuddy noticed right away, thanks to an exaggerated acting performance including several loud groans by yours truly. Her crimson blush and guilt ridden expression was almost worth it. Almost. He didn't want her empathy though, he didn't want anyone's. Ever. Still maybe one day it would lead them to pity sex. House sighed contentedly, putting his feet up on Foreman's lap. His most aggressive duckling scowled and shoved him off angrily, clearly still brooding over dying duckling. No pity there. Oh well, now that he thought about it all three of his other ducklings and ex-ducklings were technically 'dying'. I mean, they were all in mortal peril so whose to say that they weren't maimed and simply clinging to life. Cheery thoughts.

Ah well, House wasn't going to let that ruin his mood. He'd been playing with his ball, his** favourite** red ball, a few hours earlier only to have it snatched by an irate Wilson. Damn best friends could be annoying sometimes. He'd kept on at House to 'be serious for once' and how he should 'be more concerned'. He would never admit it, not to anyone but he was a little worried. I mean who else would work for him? Sure there would be queues of the snivelling imbeciles should he need staff right outside his door after a moments notice, but could they replace his team?

House shook the annoying thoughts out of his mind and concentrated on his earlier thoughts before he got side tracked. Yes, Wilson had confiscated his ball. But House had recently snuck the contraband out of his back pocket, whilst over exaggerating the leg pain. Which had still hurt by the way, don't get me wrong. Still, now he had something to focus on and free his mind. He rubbed the ball around in his pocket and gazed at the bald patch on the detective's head. He needed to work it out, this puzzle was irritating now.

Still he was the best of the best. He would figure it out soon. He hoped so.

* * *

**Present – Thirteen**

She was paralysed again, unable to move any of her aching limbs even an inch. Not that she would have wanted to. When she came to on the now sickeningly sticky floor, all she could feel was the searing pain. Not from her arms, they weren't too bad. She'd cut before, though perhaps not so extreme. She could handle that pain, it had kept her focused on matters at hand, kept her going after her mother's death. That pain was nothing compared to her emotional scarring, she supposed with a grim smile.

No the current agony surging her bloodstream was the one in her side and abdomen, they literally burned. She knew from the semi conscious conversation she had briefly managed to tune in to earlier with Robert and Tau, that she had kidney trouble. That explained the flank pain; after all she should recognise it. Since that hostage situation she'd thought she could handle pain and manage her life for a better future. She almost chuckled at the dark irony, oh if she could see herself now. Drenched in crimson tears, unable to even raise her own head off of the ground. How she would have despised her weakness.

The other torso pain came from her more recent torture. After refusing nobly, - no wait, arrogantly - to make even a sound at the arm cutting, her former cell mate and now turned psychopath, had chosen to use her blades on an already open wound. Now that had caused the screams. Remy swallowed slowly, her dry mouth as rough as sandpaper. How she longed for another drink. Her throat was red raw and felt it too, she couldn't recall how long exactly she'd been yelling for before she passed out. Her stomach did somersaults as she tried not to think about whether or not the others may have suffered the same treatment. God she hoped not. She had lost her faith a long time ago, sneered in her father's face about his blind and desperate prayers for her mother's well being. Yet she chanted in her head, the verse she hoped may do something, **anything** for the others:

_Eternal Father, I offer You all the Wounds, pains, and the Precious Blood from the Sacred Feet of Your Son, Our Lord and Master, for all Your children who are wandering like sheep without a shepherd in this terrifying forest. Protect them against wild predators and give them peace that they might be one, and united in the same way as the nail held fast the Feet of my Master and Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen._

Opening her eyes slowly and shifting on to her left shoulder, she tried to hold back a gasp of pain. Right in front of her lay a pair of rusted forceps she knew too well, the ends claret with her blood. Before she had time to react, a voice sounded suddenly behind her.

"Ah, you're awake. Are we ready to continue boys and girls?"

Thirteen closed her eyes once more and gave in to the darkness, craving the numbness unconsciousness held. She did not sleep long and soon the music began once more.

* * *

**Present – Andre**

He was worried, biting his nails again. He hadn't done that in fifteen years, not since he had first been arrested for being in the possession of drugs and driving a stolen vehicle. He'd seen many nightmarish things in prison, things he daren't remember and which still haunted him whenever he tried to sleep. Yet what Darrien was doing, what his girlfriend was doing, it made him feel sick. Physically ill, like he might throw up at any minute.

She'd crossed a line, a line which was faint but definitely there. And somewhere across the way, he had gone over it with her. He had helped her capture these hostages, he had done his fair share of the dirty work. But what she was doing to that girl, that person she had loathed and raved about whenever she got the chance, she was treating her like an animal. What she had done to that woman was unimaginable, so inhumane it scared Andre.

He would never admit it though, of course not. But terrified he was, and she had to be stopped before she killed someone. He didn't usually care when people got hurt, but he did **not **want any blood on his hands. Taking a shaky breath, he dialled and waited.


	12. Chapter 12

**Authors Note: Sorry for the wait guys, I had a little writers block and a lot of school work. Still ?I hope this chapter is okay for you guys and thank you so much for all of the positive feedback! But please do review again guys and once more all ideas are welcome. Seriously, they may ease the writer's block ;)**

* * *

**Chapter 12: Searching**

**Present – Chase**

When the door swung open once again, he was lying in a puddle of his own tears, the salty water cool on his forehead. To his surprise and small relief it was Taub who was thrown back inside, looking no more worse for wear than before. Sitting up quickly, embarrassed to be caught in such a vulnerable position, and wiped his face. Taub's suit was creased and dirty and Chase was surprised to see that his eyes, like his, were also puffy and red. Sniffling as quietly as possible, Chase met Taub's concerned gaze.

"They didn't do anything to you did they? Only um…" He trailed off and bit his lip. Just that tiny reflex action almost made him start tearing up again, Remy had been doing the same thing earlier. He supposed that she was either too delirious from pain and blood loss or simply preoccupied to notice, that he saw her concealing her true pain from him. The fact that she thought that she always had to hide her vulnerability frustrated him, she already had so much to deal with.

With her terminal illness and disturbed childhood, she was always having to stand up for herself in one way or another. Whether to House, to Foreman or to Cuddy she always had to act as though everything as fine, always had to plaster on a smiley façade. Well, not exactly smiley. More a sort of piercing and beautiful scowl. Her eyes gave her away though, he had always noticed that. Underneath those jaw dropping lashes lay her poorly hidden difficulties, her insecurities and many burdens. Those blue irises conveyed her deepest emotions, ruining her composure. No one else noticed it though. House maybe, but then again, House was House.

Chase wondered whether or not they were looking for them, how long it would take them to work out that their sudden disappearances were no coincidence. That they were in mortal danger, that they could d-. He couldn't think that, he wouldn't even consider the option. He couldn't give up hope, he wouldn't. His stomach churned uncomfortably, so much so that he felt bile rise up in his throat. Clenching his jaw for a moment, he observed his colleague more closely.

He appeared to be rocking slowly, his eyes focused on something Chase couldn't see. His lips were chapped and raw yet moving furiously, repeating some manta over and over again. Taub looked more than a little demented, his bald head glistening with greasy sweat, a reflective orb.

Closing his eyes, Chase bit his lip again. This time he couldn't hold the tears back.

* * *

**Present – Princeton Police Department**

Detective Sawyers wasn't exactly happy, more slightly excited. They had received an anonymous tip off just ten minutes earlier, a startling revelation given the lack of hard evidence or leads up until that point. He might even get to go home early, he thought briefly, optimistically. Far too optimistically. He hadn't been able to go home earlier or have a day off in thirty years of faithful service. And for what? A divorce and angry teenage daughter, I mean what made sixteen year olds **so** angry?

Shaking the thoughts out of his head, he focused on the task at hand. They were currently summoning as many available officers in the town as possible, whilst scouring a map for the destination their informer described. The man, the voice had been distinctly male and husky, had simply told him that the three doctors were being held in some old shipping containers in a land fill site, on the outskirts of town. After some searching Sawyers realised that there were in fact three different sites like the places given, all quite far away from each other. The caller had hung up before they could press him for any more details or trace the call, not that they would have had that kind of funding or equipment anyway, and so it could be any one of them.

After inquiring as to why there were three land fill sites not in close proximity to each other, it later transpired that the county council had placed them deliberately so as not to disturb people with the smell or sight. One site wasn't enough, and all three of them couldn't go in the same place or else house prices would drop and a civil war would be on their hands.

Cursing suburban diplomacies of America under his breath, Sawyers had called in every work experience boy and cadet within the station to his office, where he had given orders for them to gather more forces and try to coordinate a strategic attack.

The boyfriend was being particularly annoying, insisting that they race there that instance. He had complete disregard for the more intelligent approach, threatening to drive over there himself and 'sort them out'. It took a warning that he could be held in the cells and a condescending remark from House, to get him to lower don back in to his chair, his fists still balled in fury.

Just then his radio crackled loudly, and Sawyers held up a finger for silence. Ignoring House's sarcastic scowl and raised eyebrows, he gave the command they were waiting for.

"Move out troops, I repeat, move out. We are en route to arrest this jailbird, one and for all."

* * *

**Present – Darrien**

Remy had passed out again, what a shame. It really did make the music stop and jitter uncomfortably, and she needed it to have more melody. Still this was better than she had ever dreamed that it would be and these sounds would stay with her forever. So beautiful and almost orchestral. Yes that was it, they were the perfect song. The song of bitter sweet revenge, vengeance that had been a long time coming. Remy deserved everything she was getting, she was the one who was guilty here. She was the one who had to be punished, she was the convict here.

Which she guessed was more than a little ironic, as her being sent back to jail, was the reason for her criminal status. Still, these screams were worth it. Licking the scarlet off of her favoured blade she sighed contentedly before leaping in to action once more. Twisting the blade she woke her traitor up none too kindly, but this time no guttural noises came out.

Darrien frowned, why wasn't she playing the symphony again? Staring up at her in defiance Remy had tears streaked down her cheeks, and a healthy load of grime and blood as well. Holding her gaze Darrien flexed and her cell mate flinched. She laughed.

This was fun.


	13. Chapter 13

**Authors Note: Okay so I have a lot of apologising to do. I'm so sorry for the rather astonishingly long wait for this, I don't really have many excuses. I had a little writer's block and wasn't sure how to proceed with the story but I think this chapter came out okay. I actually wrote half of this a couple of weeks ago but went on holiday so I had to finish it, which is why I'm uploading now. Good news is that School is now over for the holidays and I'm planning on finishing the story up in another two chapters or so. Who knows, I might write a sequel if people like the idea. Promise I'll upload sooner this time. Sorry again and please review!**

* * *

**Chapter 13: Found**

**Present – Chase**

Preoccupied by counting the ceiling tiles religiously, something to take his mind off of the current situation, it took Chase a moment to realise that he could hear something: a slight scuffling. That was all, very quiet but hurried, increasing in speed and noise. After nothing but a choked silence and further screams the new development seemed deafening, a small ink blot on the otherwise silent and pristine canvas. Raising his head from his foetal position he locked eyes with Taub; he had heard it too.

Slowly, moving as cautiously yet quickly as he dared, Chase crept closer to the rusted grate on the farthest wall, the source of the sounds. Holding a finger to his lips to Taub, he eagerly pressed his ear to the corroded metal and waited. The scuffling grew louder and a small smack was heard. It took a few seconds for him to place it, but to Chase it sounded like the sole of a shoe hitting tarmac. Raising his eyebrows at Taub he mouthed his uncertain discovery questioningly, and received a confirmative nod to his suspicions. He agreed. Just as he turned his head back to the small hive of activity, a loud clunk made him freeze. The floor vibrated a little, whatever had fallen was heavy. The next noise was all too familiar: the loading of a gun. Before he could contemplate whether the people outside were friend or foe, he heard a small chink which filled him with hope. Handcuffs being fastened, a way out of here at last!

The spark turned to an ember and the embers set his hope on fire to a full flame: this was it. A crackle of a radio cut through his brief euphoria and Chase strained intently to focus on the distant conversation. Unable to hear most of it, he could only ascertain a few words and phrases:

"Rescue…..doctors…..hostages…searching now….yes Sir."

It was enough to rouse Taub out of his delirium and a smile broke out before he could stop it, a massive Cheshire grin worthy of the fictional cat himself. The police had found them, wherever they were. This meant a way out, an escape. It meant life.

* * *

**Present – Princeton Police Department**

This was it, the elusive hiding place of a suspected Darrien McCurdy, the assumed perpetrator of the whole operation. They'd already detained a large man seen fleeing the site wearing a distinctive red bandana over his fac. They couldn't be sure but the voice of the criminal individual matched the telephone call they had received and the man was believed to be the boyfriend of the former convict. He's already been cuffed and is on his way to the station however; they wouldn't have to deal with him anymore. The main operation was still underway, and cops gripped their weapons nervously, a sheen of sweat on many of their capped foreheads.

Waiting for the order to move out, one such rookie kept pacing back and forth, aggravating his older and more experienced colleagues. Finally after a good few minutes of building irritation, a thwack on the tarmac resonated loudly as the rookie tripped over a curb. Grabbing the beginner by the scruff of his shirt, the chief mouthed a very easily interpretable message: Shut up! At that moment the radio sounded in the chief's pocket and he picked it up straight away.

"Rescue mission is underway…. yes, three doctors taken hostage….will begin our search now…preparations are almost complete Sir I- …. searching now….yes Sir."

Only half of the negotiation was heard but it was enough. The chief gave a quick sharp nod and the whole squad was away, in a tightly organised formation they fanned out and surrounded three crates. Another hand signal and the rookie kicked down the door, yelling the announcement that the Princeton Police Department was here and for people to put their hands on their heads. What that group found however was not the murdering suspect they expected. Instead two dishevelled and sick looking doctors, oh the irony, were sat in the middle of the floor, shaking. Their hands seemed bound to their foreheads as they awaited instructions. A more senior officer relayed the discovery to the boss whilst other officers helped the civilians to their feet. The blonde man refused to listen to the rookie's reassuring advice that they were safe now and interrupted with a desperate edge to his voice. It made all the other officers stop, the voice was that of a man who had lost everything: it demanded to be heard.

"Please there's a girl next door, she's dying…you have to help her!"

* * *

**Present – House**

Back at Detective Sawyers' office House was embracing his ignorance. Foreman not so much. His fellow was pacing so fast back and forth that House was sure that the friction would almost certainly affect global warming. His employee had such an angry protruding stress vein on his forehead, that House decided it needed its own pay salary and desk. And a nickname, something comical. He deliberated for a moment - what name would annoy Foreman the most? It had to have some pun in it, yet be a name which erodes his composure over time, leading to a big diva-esque storm out. Veronica maybe? Hell it didn't matter much.

He fiddled with the object in his pocket thoughtfully, a minor change in his otherwise relaxed demeanour. It did not go unnoticed however. Cuddy reached out and clamped her hand down on his fidgeting wrist with a thoroughly not amused expression.

"House if that's your gameboy or another toy of yours so help me god!" She scowled at him with such fury that most men would wilt instantly.

Pulling his hand out of his pocket, she retrieved the mysterious item which had captivated his attention. She turned to him questioningly, a slight frown of confusion appearing on her brow as she glanced at him questioningly. She held up the contraband high enough for Foreman to see and he gasped in recognition.

"Remy's inhaler? How did you get this?"

"I stole it from her locker – I like lesbian toys. And anyway, you don't even know her name so don't lecture me." House tried.

"No… you wouldn't have hidden it." Foreman pondered out loud, seeing through House's obvious remark. "You care about...her? Why else would you bring something this far, it's obvious. You actually care about someone other than yourself"

House spread his hands over his leg, his thigh aching more. He looked at the bewildered expressions on his colleagues faces and sighed.

"Look she… I mean I think that she…okay I don't know why but I brought it in case she needed it, satisfied?" His tone was gruff but they weren't deceived. Foreman arched an eyebrow.

"Fine _**Thirteen's**_ like a twisted mess of a lesbian daughter to me. I don't want anything that bad to happen to her which would mean that she's late for work. Happy?"

It wasn't much but it was probably the closest the others would come to seeing House's true thoughts. And that scared them. For if House was worried, then Thirteen didn't have a hope in hell.


End file.
